Night spread over the city like ink.
In the busy sunlight, the courtyard was filled with drums and relatives' laughter. Now, only the drunken mutter of guests sharing stories remained. Servants moved quietly between tables, picking up empty cups and folding ceremonial cloths.
Callum stood beneath the arch where he and Sera had exchanged their final blessing.
His ceremonial garment felt heavier than it had that morning. Maybe it was the embroidery on his shoulders or the heavy layers of fabric that made it hard to move. Or maybe it was knowing that starting that day, Seraphine Elion was his wife.
For a moment, he stared at the almost empty yard as he kept drinking his whisky.
"Are you planning to spend the night here?"
Her voice came from behind him.
Callum didn't answer while Sera stood a few steps away, her bridal ornaments still in place. Several strands of hair had slipped from the tight style at the back of her neck. The pale fabric of her dress caught the lantern light, making her seem distant.
"Maybe." He finally answered.
She examined him from head to toe. "But the servants have already prepared our room, and I would rather not explain to them why my husband has decided to sleep beneath an archway."
"Your concern for their peace of mind is touching."
"I have always been considerate."
He let out a humorless breath.
Sera turned toward the residence. "Come along."
She did not wait to see whether he followed.
Callum watched her walk away. He got a feeling she was sure he would follow. He hated how comfortable she was with that confidence.
And perhaps she was right as he followed her inside their wedding room.
It had been prepared with care.
Red silk hung from the bedposts, and lanterns glowed on each side of the headboard. Candles burned on a low table next to a tray of fruit. Fresh flowers in porcelain vases filled the room with their scent, mixing with incense.
Someone had scattered rose petals across the bedding.
Callum stopped at the threshold. "Subtle," he remarked.
Sera glanced at the bed. "I believe that was the intention."
"Did you personally supervise this?"
"I supervised the arrangements."
She walked past him, took the ornaments from her hair, and set them on the dressing table. Without their weight, she moved more easily, but her posture remained stiff. "You're welcome to complain about the decorations tomorrow," she said. "Tonight, I suggest you change before you tear the sleeves off that garment."
Callum looked down at his ceremonial clothes. "I can manage."
"I didn't say you couldn't."
"Then stop treating me as though I'm incapable of doing anything without your instructions."
For the first time that evening, Sera's hands paused. The stillness lasted only a moment, but was enough to show his words had reached her.
She looked at him through the mirror.
"Of course, because in this arrangement, I am the master."
His jaw tightened. The words struck harder than a raised voice. He took a step toward the bathroom instead of answering.
Callum came out, running a hand through his hair. Then he sat on the end of the bed. "Do you ever get tired of it?"
"Of what?"
"Pretending."
This time, Sera did not answer immediately.
Outside the closed windows, the last sounds of the celebration faded. Footsteps passed in the hallway, then everything went quiet. When she finally spoke, her voice had lost some of its practiced sharpness.
"Of course."
Callum looked at her.
"But being tired has never changed what must be done."
He expected another sharp remark, another reminder of her strength. Instead, her quiet answer unsettled him, as if she had shown more than what he wanted to see.
"Well," he said, turning toward the wardrobe, "I hope you find the arrangement as satisfying both to your heart and soul."
He reached for the hair dryer.
Behind him, Sera said nothing.
By the time Callum finished, she was already sitting at the edge of the bed, reading a message on her phone. She stopped when she saw him.
"Both of us are taking the bed."She lifted her eyes. "It's our wedding night. Where else would you expect to sleep?"
"The sofa seems perfectly reasonable."
"The sofa is barely large enough for your legs."
"I've slept in worse places."
"I'm sure you have."
He gave her a hard look.
Sera placed her phone aside. "Callum, I'm not going to argue with you about a mattress."
His eyes narrowed. "Okay fine. But let's make it clear."
He paused and looked at her. "I will not give you any good night kisses nor small talk. And I definitely don't want to do that thing with you."
Sera laughed.
The sound cut through the air. His hands tightened.
"What's funny?" It's nothing like a question. His voice dropped to half the register of any warmth. His eyes traced her face.
But instead of explaining, Sera pushed him onto the bed with the strength she had gathered from years of training. And pointed a hidden needle into his neck, "Let me remind you that in this arrangement, I am the master. And if I wanted a child from you, you must cooperate."
His back hits the mattress. The insult registers first before the impact. The needle presses into the soft triangle beneath his jaw, right where the carotid hums.
Something shifts behind his eyes. His pulse beats once but heavy.
"You are playing this dirty." Then he moves his neck closer to the needle. "Then, do it. Kill me."
Sera grinned.
She pinned the needle just enough to hit her target. Then, she stood and counted, "1…..2…..3…4.."
Then, Callum started feeling dizzy.
The ceiling slowly tilted. His pupils grew wide, and the heat hit like a tide rolling in from somewhere low in his spine, flooding upward through his ribs, his throat, and the backs of his hands.
He knows what this might be."This is illegal."
His hands grip the edge of the mattress. His knuckles turn white. Every vein a separate pressure against his skin. He stood. He was trying to run.
But Sera effortlessly pulled him back onto the mattress."I know you got away to save yourself."
Then from the drawer, she brought out a chain and chained his hands to the bed. The chains bit into his wrists. His shoulders pull taut against the headboard, muscles corded, tendons draw tight.
He tried to be freed, but Sera held his cheek upward. Her mouth is on his.
The kiss hits like a detonation. It was not soft but exploratory. Her tongue traces deeper and deeper as if remembering every pathway. Her teeth catch his lower lip and dragging it, and the medicine turns every contact into something unbearable.
His hidden is already fighting against his slack. Thick and aching.
The heat from her body pressing into him sends a shudder through his chest that he cannot suppress. Then, he kisses back, void of romance. His lips answered in fury. His tongue meets her with brutal speed.
He breaks first. Wrenching his head to the side as he breathed raggedly. The tendons in his neck stand out like cables.
"You will regret this."